


Dancing in Starlight

by Anariel_Luinwe



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alcohol, Awkward Romance, Dancing, Drabble, Elvish, F/M, One Shot, Post BotFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 11:49:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3119063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anariel_Luinwe/pseuds/Anariel_Luinwe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One year has passed since the battle of the five armies and it is once again the Feast of Starlight. Your friends have attempted to lift your spirit with wine and festivities, but it may have some unintended consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in Starlight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Everything you recognize belongs to the wonderful J.R.R. Tolkien. I am merely playing in his beautiful universe.

Warning: Excessive use of alcohol and drunken shenanigans. 

One full year had passed since the battle at the Lonely Mountain and once again you were celebrating the Feast of Starlight. You had been there, albeit not in active combat. You were a trained healer for the Guard and had manned a tent to help the wounded. You would never admit it to your friends, but the sights had affected you deeply. The light of elves was never meant to be diminished and you saw so many lights put out. 

That was why your friends had dragged you to this blasted festival when you had absolutely no desire to celebrate. The stars simply reminded you of all the lives you couldn’t save. But they had insisted and reminded you that your King expected everyone to attend with not so subtle smirks. So you let them.

You wore a simple gown of silver silk that fastened in a halter behind your neck. The dress was backless, save for a strand of jewels that ran across the midline of your back, holding the fabric taut against your breasts to preserve your modesty. You pulled your hair to one side and pinned it in place with crystal accents and crowned your head with a simple silver circlet. 

It will do.

You met your friends in the massive ballroom and immediately helped yourself to a goblet of wine...It would help to dull your senses to the roar of the party. And by Elbereth, it was a party. Elves occupied nearly every inch of the provided space, music filled the hall, and the laughs and shouts of your kin pounded in your ears. It was all too much. You quickly downed your wine and reached for another. 

A low wolf whistle reached your ears. “Elo, Y/N! You look incredible!”

You smiled coyly into your wine as you turned to your friend Thalion, a member of the Guard. “Mae g’ovannen mellon nin. Hannon le.” 

“May I have this dance?” He asked as he bowed low.

You clearly hesitated. You definitely were not good on your feet and were simply in no mood to dance. 

“Come on, Y/N. You wouldn’t hesitate if I were the great King!” He taunted you jovially with his standard shit-eating-grin. It seemed everybody knew of the reverence you held for your royal leader.

Never one to accept such a jibe, you tossed back your wine and accepted his hand. You let him escort you to the dance floor as a traditional elvish dance began to play. Many other pairs joined you on the floor. Unfortunately, you could already feel the wine going to your head. As the song began, your feet felt sluggish to follow your command. Before you knew it, you were spun into the arms of another partner. This ellon was much better at leading you and soon you felt a smile light your face. You were finally starting to enjoy yourself. You had passed through three more partners and you felt the song coming to a close...unfortunately not on a very graceful note. As you were twirled into the awaiting arms of your final partner, you drunkenly tripped over your own two feet and collided hard with his solid chest, toppling the two of you. 

“Goheno nin!” You apologized profusely above the collective gasps and murmurs of the witnesses around you. 

But the room grew quiet. Your hands found purchase on the muscular body underneath you and you glanced up through your lashes in utter mortification into the eyes of the unfortunate ellon underneath you. Your embarrassed gaze was met by the piercing blue eyes of your lord, King Thranduil. 

Of course.

Hurriedly you removed yourself from his person and started sputtering apologies as fast as your tongue could make them. But liquor and embarrassment do not mix well, especially under the prying eyes of the people around you. Quickly, you gathered your skirt and made a quick escape through the nearest doors and found yourself in the gardens. The cool air did nothing to tame the flush of heat that painted your cheeks. You found the nearest bench and cradled your head in your hands, praying to the Valar to strike you dead because that would be better than living with this embarrassment. 

“It is considered rude in most civilized populations to knock someone to the ground and then not offer to help them back to their feet.” Came his sensual drawl. 

This night clearly was fated to be the worst night of your life. How could it get any worse? You peeked through your fingers and glimpsed his boots planted directly in front of you. Seeing no other way around it, you sighed and looked into the stoic face of King Thranduil.

“I am so sorry my lord. I do not know what came over me.” You pleaded.

He said nothing for several moments and you started to squirm under his calculating stare. Finally, he reached out and gently brushed an errant lock of your hair behind your pointed ear.

“Iston i nîf gîn.” He said softly, narrowing his eyes in recognition. “You are the elleth that treated my wounds in Dale.”  
“Yes.” You managed to squeak as you hadn’t yet regained your breath since he touched you.

“Will you not grant me the dance I am owed?” Thranduil asked, offering his hand.

Unable to comprehend your life at the current moment, you mutely placed your hand in his waiting one. Thranduil pulled you up from the bench and nestled you closely to his chest and placed one deft hand upon your waist. You couldn’t breathe. He started to lead you in a slow waltz around the garden to an unheard tune. His eyes never left your own and you were mesmerized. 

“Y/N, you look more beautiful than our beloved starlight this evening.” Thranduil complimented easily.

You were too astonished at the words to maintain the focus on your footwork and you stumbled once more. Thranduil ceased the dance and steadied you in front of him, his hands warm on your waist and elbow. 

“Though maybe you’ve had plenty of wine.” His lips quirked in what you could swear was an amused smile. 

“Yes...a few cups too many, perhaps.” You answer as the blush returns to your cheeks.

His hands found the bare skin of the small of your back as he began leading you back inside, sending shivers down your spine. At the door, he grasped your hand.

“Thank you for the dance, my King.”

“Thranduil, my lady. I’m certain we have been acquainted enough tonight for that allowance.”

“Thank you, Thranduil.” His name rolled easily off your tongue. “And again, I apologise for the offence to your person.”

“Y/N, I would enjoy your company again. Dine with me tomorrow.” Thranduil said smoothly.

His elegance and stature made the request sound more like a command, but you smiled widely and nodded in acceptance. And suddenly, he leaned forward and brushed your cheek with a soft kiss. 

“Until tomorrow, Y/N.” Thranduil said, returning to his typical stoic demeanor. “Ollo vae.”

“Losto vae, hir nin.” You whispered as he turned, ghosting your fingers over the still tingling spot on your cheek.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Elo - wow!  
Mae g’ovannen mellon nin. Hannon le - Well met my friend. Thank you.  
Goheno nin - I’m sorry  
Iston i nîf gîn - I know your face  
Ollo vae - Sweet dreams  
Losto vae, hir nin - Sleep well, my lord.


End file.
